Dépaysement
by armout-armin
Summary: After dropping out of college, Armin had decided to travel the world as a freelance photographer. He finds himself staying in Lyon with an old friend, Marco, as he attempts to heal and find self-acceptance. However, he also finds Jean Kirschtein in the process. (Dumb modern Jearmin AU. A couple mentions of depression/suicide.)


"_Armin!" Eren smiles at me, his lopsided grin showing his missing front teeth. "Armin, come on! Let's go!" the young boy yells excitedly, a slight lisp peeking through his speech._

_He is pulling me by the hand through an open field, yelling, "Come on!"_

_The clouds are getting dark and a storm is brewing._

"_Come on, Armin!" Eren continues to shout, still grinning happily. "Let's go!"_

_It's raining. Everything is getting darker._

_It is pitch black._

"_Armin! ARMIN!"_

_A familiar voice is shouting. Hands are now wrapped around my arms. Someone is shaking me._

"_God, Armin, don't do this to me. Armin, Armin…"_

_Who is this? Why are they panicking? There's no need to panic. I'm not panicking._

"_ARMIN!"_

_I wish they would stop screaming._

"_Armin, please…"_

_New voices. Someone else tearing me away from the hands and lifting me up. Maybe the screaming voice would calm down now. No need to worry about me. No, I am…at peace. Yes. I am peaceful. I am content._

_I can't see anything, but I can hear the whirring and beeping of machines now, the footsteps of people moving around me._

"_The suction. Hand me the suction. _Now!"

_Oh. That's unpleasant. What are they putting in my throat? It burns. Oh god it burns. Everything hurts my body is on fire and I am panicking. What's happening? Oh god no I don't want to die please no - _

I jolted awake, forcing myself not to scream out.

Okay. Okay. Just a dream. Well, a memory really.

My skin was crawling and I had broken out in a cold sweat. I squeezed my eyes shut and began to take deep, calming breaths. After a couple minutes, I opened my eyes again and looked around. I wasn't receiving any odd looks from other passengers, which was a good sign. I must not have been thrashing around or yelling.

I turned to look out the window to my left and began rubbing my temples. Outside, the seemingly endless sea of golden-yellow grass flew past as the train glided over the tracks. The sun was just barely peeking over the top of the horizon as it inched its way up the sky, tinting the clouds with vivid pinks and oranges. I sighed, wishing that the train wasn't moving quite so fast so that I could snap a picture. Oh well. Not like I didn't already have a million and one pictures of sunrises. I continued to stare out the window, willing the image of the landscape to sear itself into my memory. I did my best to focus on anything other than the dream.

"_ARMIN!"_

I grabbed my head. Screams from a year ago resonated in my mind. What was going on? It had been months since I'd dreamt about this. I thought it had finally stopped for good.

I looked at my watch. Five minutes till eight. I pulled my camera out, pressed the playback button, and began flicking through the images, looking but not really seeing.

"_Armin, please."_

I shook my head, trying to clear Eren's desperate voice out of my head.

"_The suction, hand me the suction."_

I focused on the pictures. A cathedral, a field of sunflowers, a pair of teenagers performing on a sidewalk. Deep breaths, I told myself. A sunset with the Eiffel Tower looming in the foreground, a bird perched on a park bench. The man next to me shifted in his seat and began snoring.

After a couple minutes, my pulse had slowed and my breathing had returned to a normal pace. I glanced out the window again. The sun was a little higher in the sky now, and the train was slowing gradually as it approached Lyon.

_I'm okay. That's gone, behind me, nothing more than a memory. I'm happy now._

And I truly was. This was the best I'd felt since I was a child and my parents were still around. After only a month in college last year, I had dropped out and immediately set off for the east coast with little more than a change of clothes and my camera. Eren and Mikasa had not been happy with that one. I had hopped in my old Camry, driven for two days straight until I reached Cape Cod, stayed in the shadiest motel in town for a few days, then turned around and drove back. Just standing on the beach, toes dug into the sand and the wind whipping my hair around my face, had given me a sense of peace. It had been the first time all year that I had been truly happy. When I returned home, I told Eren and Mikasa that I absolutely could not stay in Vegas any longer, that it was suffocating me, that I was going to travel to all the places I'd read about. I told them that I did have a plan and yes, I did know what I was doing, so no, they could not convince me otherwise.

Not that they hadn't tried. I was ruining my future, they said. I was smart, ambitious, I had so much potential. I was working through my problems, I was better now. I couldn't throw away my future. In the end, though, they gave up and saw me off at the airport a couple months later as I boarded a flight to Amsterdam.

Now, half a year later, I was sitting on a train bound for Lyon, France, trying to calm myself down from the first panic attack I'd had since I'd left home.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and tapped the email icon. I scrolled past bank statements and messages from Eren and Mikasa and my grandfather before I saw Marco's name.

_Armin,_

_That sounds great! I can't wait to catch up with you, it seems like it's been forever! I assume you'll be pretty exhausted from travelling, but after you rest up I can show you around a bit if you'd like, maybe hit up a few of the tourist-y places. Anyways, your train should arrive at 8, I'll be at the station to pick you up then. There's a waiting area near Platform 1, so look for me there :)_

_Marco_

Marco, who was studying abroad for the year, had offered me a place to crash. I was incredibly grateful that I wouldn't have to stay in yet another questionable hostel. I checked the time again. 7:59 am. As I looked up, the train pulled into the station and slowed to a halt. A woman began to speak in French over the intercom, but I was too exhausted to attempt to translate what she was saying. Hitching my backpack onto my shoulders and clutching the strap of my messenger bag, I squeezed into the aisle of the train and worked my way out through the barely-moving line.

As I stepped onto the platform, I stood on my toes to look over the heads of the crowd, and I located a sign that informed me I was on Platform 5. I pushed my way forward towards the front of the station, where I saw a tall man with black hair tapping his foot and looking around.

"Marco!"

He turned towards my voice, saw me, and grinned widely. "Hey, Armin!" he called out as I approached.

When I finally worked my way out of the bustling crowd, Marco pulled me in for a quick hug, then grabbed my bag from me. "Taxis are out this way," he informed me as he set off towards the exit. I jogged to keep up with his long strides. We walked briskly through a long hallway. The building was very modern looking, and I looked out the huge windows to see a row of cars waiting for passengers, a line of bike racks, and a large grassy lawn with a few people ambling along the sidewalks.

"So, how have you been?" I looked up to see Marco smiling at me.

"Not bad. I've been travelling a lot," I informed him.

He nodded enthusiastically. "That's what I heard. So you've been in Europe for…?"

"Um…about three months, I guess," I quickly counted in my head. "I left right after Christmas."

"Man, that's quite a while. Have you been enjoying it?"

"Yeah," I said, grinning. "It's been a fantastic experience. This is my last stop before I go home for a bit."

We exited the station and I pulled my jacket around me as a lazy breeze blew my hair around. Marco led me towards a couple taxis waiting out front, flagged one down, and gave the driver an address in rapid French. He turned to look at me as the driver whipped out into the street.

"How's everyone back home?"

I shrugged, clinging tightly to my seat as the cab swerved between lanes. "It's been a while since I've been home, but whenever I talk to Eren Mikasa it sounds like they're all doing well." Marco nodded in understanding. "So, how's school going? It must be cool to study here."

"Oh man, it's great," Marco chimed enthusiastically. He then launched into an explanation of his classes, talking emphatically about his different professors and art assignments. I nodded along, doing my best to listen and respond appropriately despite the fatigue that was settling over me. A couple of hours of restless sleep on a train had not quite been enough for me, so I was grateful that Marco was doing most of the talking.

I looked past Marco and out the window as we crossed a bridge over the Rhône. Large, regal buildings lined the river and trees swayed with the slight breeze. Marco continued to chatter on, occasionally asking me about our friends back home and my jobs for different magazines.

A half an hour later, the cab was screeching to a halt in front of an older, white-brick apartment building. Marco leaned forward to hand the driver his fare while I climbed out and looked at the city for the first time.

I always worried that the excitement of being somewhere unfamiliar would eventually be dulled, that I would become numb to the elation I received when I first looked around whatever new city I had arrived in. The thought of losing that terrified me because it was honestly one of my favorite sensations. However, my fears were quickly forgotten each time I reached my destination; no matter how worn out I was from running around train stations or sprinting to catch a flight or hitchhiking on the freeway, I always got that giddy feeling in the pit of my stomach. As cliché as it sounds, the prospect of adventure always managed to enthrall me.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Marco said as he walked up behind me. He took a moment to admire the surroundings with me. "What do you think of the city?"

I looked around. The cobblestone street was fairly empty, only a few people occasionally passing by as they headed to work and school. The soft sounds of chattering in French and cars on other roads carried through the air. Bright flowers were draped out of a few of the windowsills. A couple stood outside a shop down the street and a girl flew past on a bike, hair caught in the breeze as she went.

I nodded. "It's beautiful."  
"Yeah. It's not bad," Marco chuckled as he turned towards the building and pulled out a key. I followed him up a flight of stairs and into his apartment. It was small, but comfortable. It felt like a home.

"You're on the pullout bed over there," he said, nodding towards a futon against the wall. "Mina might be here some nights, too, but you won't really need to worry about her."

"Thanks for letting me stay here, Marco," I said gratefully. I was running low on cash at the moment, so Marco letting me stay was a lifesaver for me.

"No problem," he chirped as he set my bag in the corner, and I did the same with my backpack. "Hey, you're probably pretty worn out by now. I'll go ahead and get out of your hair."

I checked my watch to find that it was nearly nine. "Hm… I might hold off on sleeping. I want to try to keep my sleep schedule lined up properly," I told him. I also wasn't exactly looking forward to going back to sleep after this morning's incident, but I decided to leave that out.

He nodded in understanding. "Okay. I have to go meet up with someone, but there's a café down the street if you're hungry, and I think they have Wi-Fi. If you're not feeling up to that, though, I usually use my neighbor's internet connection," he explained.

I laughed. "All right, thanks."

The taller boy tossed me a key that he said would get me into the apartment if I did decide to go out, then turned and walked out the door.

I collapsed on the futon immediately. For a couple minutes, I simply laid there face down, listening to the sounds of footsteps and bikes and the occasional car horn floating through the open windows of the little apartment. Finally, I sat up slowly and pulled my laptop out of my backpack. I waited for it to boot up, then connected to the network labeled "Bossard" and clicked on the Skype icon. I looked around the room as the call connected. There was a tiny kitchen in the corner with a stove, an oven, and a microwave; across from the kitchen were two doors - the one in the corner was open and I could see a bathroom inside it, and the other I assumed was Marco's room.

"Armin?"

I turned towards the screen that now showed a choppy video of a brunette boy. I smiled widely. "Hi, Eren."

Eren grinned. "Mikasa, get in here! It's Armin!" he shouted to his left, then turned back to me. "Dude, how are you? _Where _are you?"

I laughed. "I'm tired. And I told you earlier, Eren. I'm in Lyon."

He shook his head. "Sorry man. You're hard to keep up with."

I snorted. Another figure came into view on my screen. "Hey, Mikasa."

"I assume you made it safely to Marco's house?"

I nodded. _Yes, Mother_, I thought but didn't dare say out loud. I remembered that she had once thrown Eren into a wall for making a crack like that.

"Good," she said. "How are you? Are you taking care of yourself? Have you been taking your medicine?"

Mikasa always tended to bombard me with these kinds of questions when I called to check in with them. "Yes, Mikasa. I'm doing fine," I assured her, though I had forgotten to take my pills that day. I told myself I'd do it later – there was no need to make my friends worry about me more than they already do.

Eren groaned. "Let up on the kid, Mikasa. It's probably early in the morning there."

"It's nine in the morning there," she informed him.

"To me, that's early." Eren returned his focus to me. "So, what's going on? Any big plans yet?"

I shook my head. "Nah, not really yet. I've been in contact with a couple publications, but there's nothing too pressing." I made most of my money as a freelance photographer and occasionally as a journalist. I also managed to pick up some odd jobs every once in a while, but photography was my main source of income. "Marco offered to take me around the city after I rest up, so there's that." My friends nodded. "How's everything at home?"

"Eh, same old, same old," Eren replied. "It would be way better if you were here."

I rolled my eyes. "It's just one more month, you dork. Then I'll be home."

"Yeah," Mikasa interjected, "and then you're leaving again."

She was right, and I began to feel a little guilty. "I know, guys. But you know how badly I've always wanted to see the Great Barrier Reef."

A company had contacted me in February after seeing some of my work and offered to send me to Australia in May, leaving Mikasa and Eren slightly bitter that I would be taking time out of the summer we had planned to spend together. I felt bad about it, but I knew I probably wouldn't be able to afford the plane tickets for a trip like this otherwise. "It's just for two weeks though, and then you'll have me for at least the rest of the summer," I assured them.

Eren sighed loudly in response.

"Let's talk about something else," I said. "What's going on with you guys?"

Eren leaned forward excitedly "Oh my gosh, Armin. Do you remember Franz and Hannah?" I nodded and told him that yes, of course I remembered them, we went to school with them for twelve years. Eren ignored my sass and continued on with some wild story about the pair. I listened to the adoptive brother-sister duo ramble on, laughing and gasping and shaking my head whenever they paused in their stories. Eren narrated wild anecdotes about their most recent escapades and Mikasa interjected frequently to correct his facts. I was content to simply watch and listen to my two best friends, the only people other than my grandfather that I had ever truly considered to be my family.

We had been talking for nearly half an hour when Eren looked down at his phone.

"Aw, shit. We're supposed to be at Reiner's in five minutes," Eren said to Mikasa. He turned back to me. "They're throwing Annie a surprise party," he explained.

I snorted. "I'm sure she'll love that."

Eren grinned stupidly. "Yeah, people are placing bets on who's gonna get punched when we jump out to surprise her."

"Honestly, it will probably just be whoever's closest," Mikasa noted nonchalantly.

"I think it'll be Bertl." Eren smirked. "Anyways, we should probably get going."

Though I was reluctant to hang up, my drowsiness was beginning to overtake me. "Have fun, guys. Wish Annie a happy birthday for me, and tell everyone I said hi."

Eren nodded. "Will do."

"Be sure to call us again when you get a chance," Mikasa reminded me.

I gave them a thumbs up and said goodbye, then ended the call and shut my computer.

Yawning, I stretched my arms out and rolled my neck until it popped. I then reached down to dig around in my bag until my fingers wrapped around a small bottle. After I was released from the hospital the previous year, the doctor had prescribed me Prozac, and though I did my best to take it as I was supposed to, I often needed prompting from Mikasa. I popped the pills into my mouth and leaned back, deciding to finally give in to the overpowering pull of my body's need for rest. However, as soon as I was about to drift into unconsciousness, I heard the turn of a key and the sound of voices speaking in rapid French outside the door. I sat up groggily as the door swung open and Marco entered with another boy behind him.

"_Jean, tu es un idiot," _Marco said, laughing. He then turned towards me."Oh, hey Armin!" he greeted me, switching back to English. "This is Jean, he goes to school with me. Jean, this is Armin." I waved shyly and Jean nodded at me. "_Armin va rester avec moi durant un mois," _Marco explained to Jean.

"Nice to meet you, Armin," Jean said in accented, but well spoken English.

I smiled. "You too."

Jean said something to Marco in French that was above my basic understanding of the language. I watched Jean as he spoke to his friend. He was shorter than Marco, but still tall, and he was slender. His hair was odd, a messy undercut with a sort of mousy color on top and shorter dark brown on the sides. He had piercings in his ears and I thought I could see the edges of a tattoo sticking out from under the sleeve of his t-shirt. Marco said something to Jean, who laughed, and I shifted uncomfortably as the two continued to chatter in French. Eventually, the pair turned back to look at me.

"I'm not sure if you have anything planned," Marco said to me, "but like I mentioned in that email, I'd be happy to show you around sometime."

Honestly, Marco was probably the best host I could've asked for. I'd stayed mainly in hostels in the past few months, but with a number of people as well, mainly by couch surfing. There had been many hosts who left me to fend for myself, so I was grateful for Marco's generosity. It was a nice change to stay with someone who I actually knew. "Oh, that would be great!" I told him. "I mean, if you're not busy or anything," I added quickly, not wanting to take advantage of his kindness.

"It would be my pleasure," he assured me. "I'll look into a couple places, then. I have some connections," he told me, winking.

"_Je dois y aller," _Jean said to Marco. _"J'ai parlé avec Levi et j'ai lui déjà dit que je travaillerais aujourd'hui."_

"_Oh, alors, à plus tard."_

With that, Jean gave a quick wave to me before leaving the apartment.

"Well," Marco addressed me, "I've got to go finish a project for my class. You've got free run of the place."

"Thanks again, Marco," I said genuinely. "I really appreciate this, and I'll try not to be in your way too much."

Marco waved my comment off as he turned to go into his own room. "Don't even worry about it, Armin."

His door clicked shut behind him and I once again collapsed on the couch. I kicked my feet up on the arm, deciding that I could pull the bed out later. It took me all of two minutes to fall into a comfortable sleep, this one much more peaceful than the last.

* * *

Hello friends! Ok, I don't write all that terribly often, so this is kind of weird for me. I'd really love to hear feedback or whatever, though, sooo let me know what y'all think. Also, big thanks to m-phistopheles for being a hella rad beta reader and just generally putting up with me. Also, the title is a French word that doesn't really have an exact meaning in English, but it's something like "The unsteady feeling you get when you are away from your home country." (oh good lord I hope I'm using this word correctly I'm not a native French-speaker ok)


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